Light of the Damned
by AWritersMuse
Summary: From the East a shadow shall waken and spread, the crowned shall take his final breath, two sisters among this path do tread, shall save the damned from death. Kili/OC
1. Chapter 1

_**But I learned fast how to keep my head up 'cause I**_

_**Know I got this side of me that**_

_**Wants to take the yoke from the pilot and just**_

_**Fly the whole mess into the sea**_

**~The Shins**

* * *

It started the same way it always did.

"You look tired."

There was a quiet intake of breath.

"I am tired."

Always the same answer, always the same muted tone.

"Did you have that dream again?"

The young woman sighed, bringing her feet up onto the cushioned black chair she was sitting on, allowing her chin to rest on her knees. She wrapped her arms around her legs tightly, sinking further back in to the plush fabric.

"It's all the same," she answered, her eyes glazed over with distraction. The dream was always the same, not a thing out of place.

"Are you still convinced that it's trying to tell you something? Give you a message?"

The young woman averted her blue eyes to the middle-aged blonde sitting across from her. No doubt she had been pretty in her youth. She still was pretty despite the faint signs of age showing near the corners of her eyes and thin-lipped mouth. To anyone at first glance, she may have appeared stern and unapproachable, but one look at her eyes and the young woman knew there was something deeper festering inside the rigid body clad in black work pants and a matching blazer. Her deep emerald eyes bored into the faces of her coworkers, her clients, with a cold, calculating glare, one that said she knew more about life than she ever wanted to know. But there were moments, rare moments in which her eyes would flash with a sudden vulnerability, so great and intense that it made the young woman uncomfortable. She wanted to know the things Monica knew and, yet, she didn't. It was incredibly ironic, considering Monica's profession.

"Jerrica," the blonde called lowly. Even her voice was laced with the heaviness of desolation, an inner suffering that Jerrica knew all too well.

"Yes," she responded finally. "It has to. It's too...different, vivid, for it to be just some random reoccurring dream. It has to _mean_ something." The older woman narrowed her eyes in deep thought, not sure if she should go along with what Jerrica was dead set on believing or if she should delicately sway her onto the path of reason. After all, dreams are just a projection of the subconscious, a random and frenzied manifestation of inner thoughts and feelings. In no way could a dream be a premonition of any sort. That would be logically impossible. As a woman of science, she could not bring herself to consider such an idea.

"I know you don't agree with me," Jerrica said suddenly, "but how is it possible for me to just dream up people I've never met before? Or of places I've never seen? Monica, I'm telling you, something, or someone is trying to tell me something."

Monica sighed and nodded her head. She was only there to listen, to guide Jerrica into a happier, more productive state of mind. Disagreeing with her and shutting down her ideas wouldn't help in the slightest.

"Alright, then what do you think it's trying to tell you?"

Jerrica paused. In all honesty, she had no idea what it could possibly mean. It's been stumping her for the past year. She had researched for days and weeks on everything there is to know about dreams and their meanings, but nothing could ever explain the things she would see every night in her unconscious mind. So, Jerrica only shrugged her shoulders and placed her chin back on her knees.

"I'm still trying to figure that out."

"Jerrica," Monica began hesitantly. Jerrica immediately knew the direction this was going to go and tensed her body in preparation. "You said these dreams started up shortly after your mother...disappeared." Jerrica nodded slowly.

"I did."

"And you said that your mother appears briefly in every dream, in a white flowing gown, you said?"

"Yeah, and a gold head piece thing."

"Are you sure that, maybe these dreams aren't just a way of your mind comforting you over her disappearance? It could be that-"

"No," Jerrica snapped. Her eyes turned apologetic towards Monica, and her face contorted into one of guilt. "Sorry, I just...don't think that's the reason I'm having them."

Monica nodded in sympathy and noticed the recognizable glint of sadness in Jerrica's deep blue eyes. "What is it, Jerrica? There's something else going on, isn't there?"

It was uncanny how observant this woman was, and it never failed to catch Jerrica off guard. No one was quite able to read Jerrica as well as Monica, not even her own sister. Monica saw the small flinch in her client's body, knowing full well that she was not used to other's picking up on the highly concealed hints of her emotions. But Monica was observant, she always had been. It was a gift that she would have traded any day just to obtain the blissful ignorance that her colleagues seemed to take for granted. They didn't make that saying for nothing, and, as smart and realistic as being observant has made her, it also made her susceptible to the grey, dark side of the world where real evil lingered like vultures over a a field of dead animals. Maybe she would be happier with her ignorance. Maybe she would be somewhere else, enjoying her life, and not sitting in a small, cramped up office with client after client telling her their problems. She didn't have to do this, she knew that. She always had a choice. And she ultimately made the choice to help those who shared the same feelings she did. But how can you really help someone when you can't even help yourself?

That's the question Monica asked herself every day and it never failed to irritate her. Jerrica could see the inner battle raging inside of her therapist. She was observant too, but unlike Monica, she didn't treat it like a curse. It was just a part of her, something she was always able to do and neither hated it nor liked it; it just was. Because of this, Jerrica found herself better able to hide her feelings, to hide behind a blank expression that, up until now, no one was able to see past. At least Monica was there to help, and Jerrica knew that whatever was said in the office stayed in the office. So, she let out deep breath and allowed the words to tumble from her mouth.

"I feel like I don't belong here," she mumbled into her knees.

"You mean you feel like you don't belong here in New York?" Jerrica shook her head sadly and sighed once more.

"I mean I don't feel like I belong _here_, in this...world." A flash of alarm lit up in Monica's eyes and Jerrica was quick to fix her mistake. "No, no, I don't mean that I want to-to..._kill_ myself. What I meant is that I feel like I should be somewhere else, living in a different world or time. I know it sounds crazy, but that's just how I feel. Freya said she feels it too at times, that we aren't supposed to be here."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah."

"How is she?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, how is she."

Jerrica wasn't very comfortable with talking about her family, or lack thereof. Freya was all she had now and was the only thing keeping her sane in her world of abandonment and dull routine. How could she talk about her sister without revealing the fact that Freya, too, had the same dreams every night? That evens her older sister-the role model, Jerrica's lifeline-has fits of complete and utter despair? One's that only Jerrica could tranquilize through soothing words and soft lullabies from their childhood; and when Jerrica had her moments, Freya was always there too, singing to her in a voice that was so much like their mother's. Yes, they were completely and absolutely dysfunctional, two dead women walking. But they tried. They tried every day to make the most of their situation. And sitting here, revealing her inner thoughts and feelings, having to reveal her _sister's_, it only brought Jerrica back down into her deep pit of anger, sadness, and confusion. She didn't want to remember, she wanted to forget. She wanted an escape. Therapy sessions certainly were_ not_ an escape. And, so, Jerrica did what she usually always did: she closed up and only responded with the vaguest of answers, never revealing too much, but giving enough to satisfy the question asked.

"She finds ways to distract herself. She's doing well, I think." Monica gave her that look, the one that said she knew what Jerrica was doing, but wasn't going to push her any further.

"And you? Are you finding ways to distract yourself?"

_Of course not_, Jerrica thought in her head, but she obviously would never actually admit it. Instead she nodded her head and answered with a dull, "yeah."

Monica knew she was lying. She did it herself all the time. She knew the repercussions of pushing someone so unstable to the edge, she had been there. That's what differentiated herself from all of her coworkers. None of them actually understood, none of them actually got it. They wanted to see progress for the sake of progress. Monica didn't want that. She wanted progress for the sake of the client and their mental stability. Yes, it meant that her client's would last longer and most of the time, they would get nowhere, but it's what needed to be done to ensure to herself that she was doing a good job, that she was actually helping. Today was one of those days that the two of them, Jerrica and Monica, were getting nowhere, and, it could very well be the reason that Monica decided to flip her notepad closed and lean forward to the young woman in front of her.

"Jerrica, when you say you feel like you belong in another world, what world do you think you belong in?"

Jerrica was silent for a long while, recovering from the shock of such a question being asked to her, especially from Monica. Of course she's thought about it, but the underlying question was whether or not she wanted to share personal information such as that. Freya and herself have discussed it at length, spending hours creating new lives for themselves, new adventures. It was their _thing_. But Jerrica could see the near desperate look in Monica's eyes, how much she wanted to make a break through with someone so far gone as her. Jerrica relented, but was careful with how much she revealed.

"Somewhere...older and much more adventurous. A world where people don't have to go through twenty years of schooling to become something. I don't know, a world where I don't feel so lost and alone, where Freya and I both don't have to feel that way."

It was Monica's turn to be silent, absorbing the response she just received from Jerrica. It was more than she was expecting, quite honestly. Although she, herself, had never dreamt of living in a different world or time period, the way Jerrica made it sound made the idea incredibly appealing. Monica realized that her younger self would have wished for the very same thing, even her present self wouldn't mind it a bit. But those were just dreams, nothing more, a fantasy for those who were desperate for an escape. She couldn't allow herself to sit around and wait for the impossible. It would only proliferate the dullness of reality, and it was already dull enough to Monica. Jerrica was old enough where she needed to allow herself to differentiate fantasy from reality, to move on with her life and make something of herself. She, too, couldn't sit around and wait for the impossible. But these dreams that plague her mind every night, this feeling of utter loneliness is keeping her from doing that. Monica didn't pity Jerrica, but she felt obligated to help the twenty year old.

"It sounds lovely," Monica said with a faint smile. "But, you know, you can find your way here, in this world. Sitting around and waiting for something magical to happen won't make you feel any better, Jerrica."

Annoyance built up inside Jerrica at Monica's words. Did she think Jerrica was stupid? Of course she knew that her wishes were impossible. It's not like all she did was lay on the couch and await her fairy godmother to appear before her, waving around a magic wand and granting her every desire. Jerrica was trying to do something with herself, she just didn't know _what_ to do.

"I'm aware," she said somewhat bitterly. "I'm not waiting for anything impossible to happen. I'm waiting for...for..."

"For what?"

Jerrica didn't respond, she didn't know how. What _was_ she waiting for? She did all the normal things a twenty year old should do: she went to school, she had a job, a car. But what was she supposed to do with all of that? Even though Jerrica had built a somewhat crooked path in front of her, if only to last the next couple of years, she felt like something was supposed to...come to her, fill her with a sense of completion or at least guide her to where she was meant to go. Nothing was happening, though, and if only she knew what it was that she was waiting for than maybe things could make just a little more sense to her.

"Jerrica," Monica pushed. "What are you waiting for?" And then she snapped.

"I don't know!" Jerrica suddenly stood up from her seat, her hands on either side of her head. She was breathing deeply, attempting to keep the inevitable panic attack from surfacing. "I just want things to make sense! Nothing makes sense anymore!" In the background, the intercom machine beside Monica's desk buzzed lowly. It took a minute for the older woman to answer; she was quite taken aback at Jerrica's outburst. Never in the nine months that Jerrica had been her client had Monica ever seen the young woman react like that. She was always so unwilling to express any type of emotion, stubbornly keeping everything in. They made a few breakthroughs, like with the reoccurring dreams, but other than that, Jerrica revealed nothing. This was something entirely knew for the both of them. Monica stared at Jerrica with eyes wide, watching the girl close her eyes, pinch the bridge of her nose and walk off the panic attack that had been triggered by her outburst. The intercom buzzed again, a bit longer this time. Slowly, Monica stood up from her seat and made her way to the intercom, using her long index finger to push down on the large white button.

"Yes?" Several seconds passed before the muffled and cracking noise from the other end of the machine filled the heavy silence lingering in the office. A nasally voice on the other end responded loudly, causing both Monica and Jerrica to tense their necks and shoulders in discomfort.

"Mark Tungston is here for his appointment." Monica's eyes averted to the digital clock at the corner of her desk, the bright red numbers reading five o'clock meaning Jerrica's session was now over.

"Send him in," she said. Monica sighed and looked up at Jerrica who seemed much calmer than before. "Well, our time's up. I'll see you next week."

Jerrica wasted no time in grabbing her coat and purse, quickly walking out of the office with a short "goodbye." Relief flooded through her when she stepped into the hallway. She absolutely hated therapy. It was stupid and did nothing to help her in any way. The only reason she still went was because Freya wanted her too and Jerrica would do anything for her big sister, so long as it made her happy. But it was getting to the point where these sessions were draining her and every minute there only reminded her of the people she's lost, the things she desperately wanted but couldn't have, and the things she held onto for dear life to keep herself afloat. Jerrica didn't like thinking about the shit in her life. She tried to stay as positive as she could. At least she had Freya, if no one else. At least she was alive and healthy and capable of attempting to turn her life around. Sometimes, things have to get worse before they get better, and that's what Jerrica held onto in her moments of darkness.

So absorbed in her thoughts, Jerrica did not realize that she wasn't alone in the dimly lit hallway leading to the elevator. A tall man had sauntered past her, his features hidden by shadow. She kept walking, her head down and eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

"Excuse me, miss," a low and chilling male voice called from behind her. Jerrica jumped in surprise, swiftly turning around to face the stranger only to wish that she had kept going. His very presence made Jerrica uncomfortable. He was incredibly tall, albeit, most people were incredibly tall compared to Jerrica considering her rather small frame, but his height seemed almost unnatural. Every article of clothing the man wore was black, even his hair was black and tumbled down to his shoulders in messy, greasy waves. Beady black eyes stared right into hers, holding her hostage to their predatory gaze. He smiled then, a spine-tingling smile that made Jerrica want to turn and run for the hills.

"Uhh," was all she could manage to get out. He chuckled at her obvious fear, seeming to enjoy it. Jerrica gulped.

"I believe you dropped this." It was then that Jerrica realized that his gloved hand had been outstretched towards her the whole time, silver, gleaming object laid out in his palm. Her eyes widened when she saw exactly what he was holding. She cautiously brought her hand up, swiping the necklace away from his grasp and taking a step back. Jerrica was growing uneasy with every second she was in front of this man, but she was unable to just turn and leave. It felt like something was keeping her there, holding her feet to the floor.

"T-thanks," she said unsteadily. Her heart began to pound painfully in her chest when the man took another step towards her, and another.

"I have heard much about you, Jerrica Faulks." Jerrica's eyes nearly bulged out of her head when he said her name. She was absolutely sure she had never seen this guy in her life. How did he know her name? Words failed her as she continued to move back, the material of her coat brushing against the white wall behind her. His grin looked evil, his entire being shrouded in the darkness of the building, almost blending into it. Jerrica was terrified.

"W-what do you want?" she choked out. The man was a foot away from her, cornering Jerrica so she couldn't run away. He chuckled darkly again, relishing in Jerrica's fear, but something about his voice was changed. It was deeper and seemed as though several different voices were laughing along with him. It sounded demonic, causing Jerrica's knees to buckle in fright.

"Erebor will fall, the world of men will burn, and you will do nothing!" His form began to change, arms and legs morphing into a cloak of black smoke that consumed the entirety of the man's once human body. It only took mere seconds. Blood red eyes glowered at her with malicious intent, deadly. Jerrica's mouth flew open, a scream lodging in her throat as this demon flew towards her with an ear-splitting shriek. She couldn't run, she couldn't turn away, she was paralyzed.

But, suddenly, the demon flew back, the black smoke swirling around and disappearing into the air leaving behind no trace of anyone having been there, not even the man. At the same time, the door to Monica's office opened and the woman herself stepped out.

"Oh, Jerrica, you're still here," she remarked with furrowed eyebrows. Jerrica couldn't speak, she couldn't breathe. She quivered against the wall with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what she just witnessed. "Jerrica, is everything okay?"

She tried to speak, her mouth was opening and closing, but no sound came out. The only audible noise coming from her was her erratic breathing and quiet gasps for air. Jerrica knew it most likely looked like she was having another panic attack, and it wouldn't be far from the truth. But Jerrica was done. She needed to leave and dealing with Monica or anyone else besides her sister was out of the question. So, she ran, leaving behind her bewildered therapist and the ever darkening shadows that danced menacingly along the floor.

* * *

**This chapter was just newly revised by mwah so here yah go. **

**The first few chapters are going to be kind of slow and are just mainly to fill in on some things about Jerrica and Freya before they make the inevitable trip to Middle Earth and such so bear with me here! **

**Comment, favorite/follow, please! **

**Thanks for reading(: **


	2. Chapter 2

**Excuse me if I seem a little unimpressed with this  
An anti-social pessimist but usually I don't mess with this  
And I know you mean only the best and  
Your intentions aren't to bother me  
But honestly I'd rather be  
Somewhere with my people we can kick it and just listen  
To some music with the message (like we usually do)  
And we'll discuss our big dreams  
How we plan to take over the planet **

**~_Here_ by Alessia Cara**

* * *

Jerrica's hands trembled viciously as she held even tighter onto the steering wheel. It had to have been a hallucination, she was sure of it. There was no other explanation. Yet, the idea of Jerrica hallucinating did not make her feel any better. If anyone, Monica, found out that she was starting to see things as well, she would surely be forced to take some sort of medication, or worse, be admitted to a mental institution. She would not be able to handle something like that. Freya needed her and Jerrica needed Freya. Separation would be the worst thing possible for the both of them.

It was with this in mind that Jerrica decided to keep her "hallucination" to herself. She would speak of it to no one, not even her sister. She didn't need to worry Freya at all. Jerrica barely noticed how hard she was pressing down onto the gas pedal until she glanced at the speedometer which read ninety-one miles per hour. A speeding ticket would not help the situation in the slightest.

The rest of the way home, Jerrica attempted to push the events of the day to the back of her mind. She had to be calm and collected before she walked through the door of her and Freya's apartment or Freya would ask questions and it wouldn't take long before Jerrica relented and told her everything. A sigh escaped from her mouth. She so badly wanted to bang her forehead against the steering wheel. This was certainly _not_ how she had anticipated her day to go.

Jerrica hoped above all else that what she saw—or what she thought she saw—was only a one-time thing. No matter what they are, hallucinations are never a good sign and the last thing she needed was another mental disorder added to the already growing list. She never had actually been able to read the file that Monica had for her, but she had been able to catch glimpses once in a while when Monica wasn't looking. The list was long; to be expected after being a patient for nine months, but it was too long for Jerrica to not feel uneasy.

So badly did she want to put an end to her therapy sessions; Freya insisted she still go because talking to someone else besides her was a "healthy release" for Jerrica, whatever that meant. Jerrica didn't want to talk to anyone else. Her problems were her own to deal with. She would get over it soon, she was sure of it. Time is what she needed, time to get her shit together and make something of herself. She would do it, for her own sake, for Freya's…and for her mother's. God, how she missed her mother. She was always there when Jerrica needed her, when Freya needed her. It had been the three of them against the world since before she could remember.

And then one day her mother went missing. It had started out as a normal Saturday morning; the three of them woke up relatively early, Jerrica and Freya getting ready for work or if they had the morning off, immediately retreating to the couch with a cup of coffee in hand. Their mother would leave around ten o'clock to run errands and would come home around two or three depending on where she needed to stop. But that one Saturday, she never came home and to this day, no one knows where she could have possibly gone. She, quite simply, vanished.

A part of Jerrica died that day and she knew the same went for her sister. They were aware of the probability that their mother was dead, how could she not be? It's been two years since her disappearance. If she was still alive, surely she would have come home as soon as she could. For Jerrica, she wished that at least a body would show up so that she and Freya would have some closure. This business of not knowing, it ate away at her.

The complex where she and Freya lived came into view, a tall building and quite sleek looking. That being said, it was pretty expensive for the two of them, but they somehow managed. Freya and Jerrica had already been old enough to cash in the life insurance after their mother's disappearance which helped out tremendously with the expenses. It would definitely have been more ideal for them to move somewhere cheaper, but Jerrica couldn't find it in herself to leave. They grew up there and the thought of leaving the place that she and her mother had so many memories did not sit well with her. Freya had put up a good fight about it for a while. It took a month for Jerrica to convince her sister to stay. Her sister relented eventually, which may have only been to avoid upsetting her sister too much considering she was going to therapy. That had definitely irritated Jerrica.

She sat in her car after parking for a few minutes, making sure that she was completely rid of her anxiety and shakiness from back at the office. Jerrica counted to ten, breathing deeply in between each count, and opened the door of her car, bag in hand. The apartment was a good five floors up, all the way at the end of the hall which didn't bother her in the slightest. It was convenient that they never had to deal with noisy neighbors on both sides of them; only one to the left of their flat who regularly brought his "conquests" from the bar home with him. Those were incredibly unpleasant nights, but Freya would usually just turn the stereo up or increase the volume of the television to block out the inarticulate noises that would sound from next door.

Coincidentally, that particular neighbor was walking through the back entrance into the parking garage as Jerrica approached it. He was good looking, but had that "bad boy" persona that, quite frankly, Jerrica found to be immensely irritating.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted her with a wink. Jerrica rolled her eyes.

"Hey, Noah."

"Going out to the club tonight. You should come with me, have some fun." There was a smirk on his face the whole time which Jerrica tried hard not let bother her.

"Yeah, I know exactly what this 'fun' is that you're talking about and for the tenth time, I'm _not_ interested. If I wanted to sleep with you, I would have done it already." That, of course, was a lie, but Jerrica enjoyed the slight shock on his face whenever she turned him down. He obviously wasn't used to it.

"You sure about that? I think you're just playing hard to get." Jerrica gave him a bland look.

"Sure Noah." Jerrica took the initiative and began to walk away, completely aware of Noah's eyes on her jean-clad bottom. Noah had tried hard to seduce Freya last year when he first moved into the complex, but after Freya nearly knocked him out with her fist, he quickly moved onto Jerrica. Shaking her head, she stepped through the door and made her way to the elevator.

The apartment smelled like tomato sauce and sausage when she opened the door. Freya was a fantastic cook and would occasionally whip up something if she came home early from work. She found it therapeutic and nostalgic. Spaghetti dinners were always a big deal in the Faulks home. Jerrica saw her sister dancing wildly around the kitchen to _Uma Thurman_, a spoon coated in sauce in her hand.

"She wants to dance like Uma Thurman, bury me 'till I confess!" Jerrica smiled and decided to chime in.

"She wants to dance like Uma Thurman and I can't get you out of my head!" Freya whipped around suddenly; an amused smile on her face at hearing Jerrica's off key singing and went to turn the music down a bit.

"Howdy-ho sister. I've got spaghetti and sausage comin' up in five minutes." Jerrica let her bag fall to the floor, shed herself of her coat, and sat down at the table, flicking through her Facebook notifications on her phone. She hardly ever used Facebook considering all the notifications she ever received were distant family members asking how she and Freya were doing and if they would be visiting soon. The answer was always no. Her mother's side of the family was ever the judgmental type and much too nosy for Jerrica and her sister to deal with for extended periods of time. Without a doubt, if they found out that Jerrica was going to therapy they would surely have a thing or two to say about it.

A plate of spaghetti with a single sausage link was placed in front Jerrica's hands followed by a knife and fork. "How was your session today?"

Jerrica froze for a second, her fork halfway to her mouth. The events that took place flashed through her mind once again and her hesitation did not go unnoticed.

"Jeri?" Freya called in a knowing voice. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Jerrica said quickly. "I had another attack, but that was it."

"I thought you were getting over those."

"I thought so too," she mumbled to herself. Jerrica stuffed more pasta into her mouth, a signal that she wanted to end the conversation.

"Alright, I'm not going to keep going cause I know you hate it when I do, but, Jeri, if these attacks come back—"

"Yes, Freya, I know," Jerrica interrupted, clearly exasperated. Of course she knew what would need to be done; it was _her_ with the issues after all. "It was one panic attack. I got a little worked up that's it. I don't want medication. That shit screws people up."

"I mean, I'd say you're already pretty screwed in the head." Jerrica glared at Freya, not amused by her attempt to lighten the mood. Her sister put her hands up. "Sorry, sorry, just trying to diffuse the tension."

But then Jerrica smirked, taking her forkful of spaghetti and flung it at Freya's face. The sauce splattered on the clean, white t-shirt her sister wore and into her bleach-dyed hair.

"What the _fuck_, Jerrica!"

"Just trying to diffuse the tension," Jerrica said with a shrug, attempting not to laugh. Freya scowled, a gleam of revenge in her eyes.

"Oh, it's _so _on." In a matter of minutes, the two sisters were covered in spaghetti sauce and noodles, some of it splattered onto the walls behind the both of them. Jerrica was doubled over in laughter while Freya pulled a string of pasta from her shirt. These were the moments that kept them going. They might have lost their mother, but they still had each other and that's what mattered. It was now Jerrica and Freya Faulks against the world. Together, they were unstoppable.

"Before I hop in the shower, I meant to tell you," Freya started as she picked up the last noodle from the floor. "Anna called and asked if we were interested in going camping with her and Joey this weekend. I told her I wasn't sure…"

"No, let's go," Jerrica said, surprising Freya. "It'll be fun, I think."

"Wow," Freya said with her eyes widened a bit. "Okay, uh, I'll let Anna know then."

Jerrica knew exactly why her sister was so surprised. Normally he would turn down any offer from Freya's friends. She was normally on the reclusive side, an "anti-social pessimist" as Freya would put it. For some reason, she wanted to do something that would make Freya happy, and maybe it was for her own selfish reasons too. Jerrica was worried about the hallucination still. She wasn't entirely sure what was going on with her, but going outside, getting some fresh air and being in the company of people other than Freya might help her get her bearings.

It wasn't as if Jerrica hated camping either; on the contrary, Jerrica loved the outdoors. It had been a while since she was truly able to enjoy nature as living in the city where the only green you'll find is the artificial turf of the school playgrounds somewhat prevents one from regularly basking in the beauty of the natural world. And, deep down, Jerrica knew she craved some type of adventure. She knew Freya definitely did. The woman would go on and on about how much she loved camping, another reason why Jerrica found herself agreeing to the trip. The city gets to be overwhelmingly suffocating after a while.

After Jerrica and Freya had both showered the sauce off of their bodies, Freya filled Jerrica in on the plans of the camping trip. They would be hiking a majority of the time through the mountains which were absolutely breathtaking during the spring season. Jerrica remembers being in that area before with her mom and sister. It had been in the heat of the summer, but the girls didn't mind considering the numerous lakes that littered the region which they swam in every moment they could. It was a lovely memory, one that made Jerrica smile. She told as much to her sister who had given her a curious look.

"Remember that camping trip we took with mom when we were kids?" Freya smiled sadly.

"I do. I remember you pushed me in the lake cause you were too scared to jump in with me and I kept making fun of you."

"You deserved that push."

"No I didn't!" Freya retorted. "Okay, yeah I did. I was a little shit as a kid, wasn't I?"

"Mom was ready to tear your hair out when you put that garter snake in my sleeping bag," Jerrica laughed.

"I had to get back at you _somehow_."

"You knew I was deathly afraid of snakes!" Jerrica exclaimed, the smile never leaving her lips.

"And you knew I didn't like being pushed into lakes," her sister said pointedly.

"No, actually, I didn't know that." Freya gave her a flat look to which Jerrica responded with a sheepish grin. They were silent for a moment, both reflecting on the unforgettable trip with their mother.

"We were so happy then," Jerrica whispered.

"We were," Freya agreed. "And we can be happy again someday. I can already feel it coming."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jerrica smiled at her sister again, the latter eventually standing up and letting out a loud yawn. "I'm beat. I was asked to come in early this morning at work. The dumb bitch couldn't work the printer," Freya grumbled. Jerrica had no idea what Freya was going on about, but laughed anyway as her sister was so easily irritated and the most impatient person she knew.

Jerrica tried hard to sleep that night. She was tired, but every time she felt herself drifting off the face of the dark man flashed in her mind and she would abruptly wake up. It scared her. He mentioned a name of something, a name she didn't know, yet it sounded so familiar. For the life of her, she couldn't remember, but the image of the man morphing into some dark creature she _could_ remember, vividly. She tried to think of other things, the camping trip for one, the way her mother would sing her and Freya to sleep when they were children. Jerrica focused hard on the memory of her mother's voice and the soft lullabies that never failed to coax her to sleep.

She imagined her mother was sitting right next to her bed in the small, padded rocking chair that now sits in a corner of the living room. Her dark hair would be loosely tied back and her twinkling blue eyes would be closed lightly as she sang. The memory was so fresh in her head despite how many years it had been since her mother last sat at her bedside. Jerrica didn't have time to acknowledge the fact that it was working because she was already drifting off slowly, her thoughts becoming less and less coherent.

And then Jerrica was jolting forward as the sound of glass shattering on the floor ripped her away from the first stages of sleep. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest at the abrupt awakening. With great trepidation, she lifted herself out of bed and quietly tip-toed out of her room.

"Freya?" She called lowly, wondering if it was her sister who dropped something. But that deduction was quickly ruled out when the door of Freya's room opened and out she came, eyes wide.

"What the hell was that?" Freya whisper-shouted. Jerrica shook her head with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"Something must have fallen." Hesitantly, the two sisters made their way through the hallway and into the open living room. Clear glass was scattered all around the carpet, indicating that it was their mother's flower vase that had broken. What confused Jerrica was the fact that the vase had been on the opposite side of the living room and would have had too been thrown a few feet in order to reach where the shattered pieces were lying.

"Is it just me, or does this look kinda weird to you?" Jerrica asked.

"The vase was all the way over there, wasn't it?" Jerrica nodded in reply.

There was a quick breeze behind them, as if something had ran past, and the room seemed to grow darker. Shadows danced along the wall which Jerrica found incredibly alarming as all the blinds were closed and their apartment was too high up for car headlights to shine through the windows. Automatically, her face blanched at the thought of another hallucination taking place, but it wouldn't make sense at all considering Freya was right next to her, no doubt seeing the exact same things. Another rush of air came, this time to Jerrica's left causing the tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail to fly across her face.

"What was that?" Freya's voice held nothing else but fear and Jerrica, feeling much the same way, found she could hardly utter anything intelligible back. In her head, Jerrica was replaying every horror movie she had ever watched realizing that what was taking place now seemed much too alike. She was just waiting for that demon from _Insidious _to emerge from the corner and try to take over her body. A loud thud came from back in the hallway, both Jerrica and Freya jumping in fright.

"What the fuck, this is something straight out of the God damn Exorcist!" Freya's voice held no hint of joking whatsoever. Her words were shaky and terrified.

"I'm sure it's nothing," replied Jerrica, her own voice on the edge of hysteria. Suddenly, a wave of darkness, much like a black cloud swept through the air, knocking the sisters over. Jerrica shut her eyes tightly, too afraid to look up and see something she didn't want to see. But then all was still and silence filled the air. Jerrica lifted her head and cautiously opened one eye to see absolutely nothing out of the ordinary save for the broken vase. The shadows were gone and the light noises that had been sounding throughout the apartment had quieted to the usual low hum of the heater. She stood up and looked around the living room, Freya doing the same beside her.

"I don't get it…what just happened?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Jerrica answered. She walked around the living room to see nothing else out of place and moved her search into the hallway to find exactly the same thing. Her heart was still rapidly beating against her chest as she looked at Freya with concern and fear. And then her eyes moved to Freya's chest.

"Freya, Freya, your necklace," Jerrica stammered, pointing at her sister's now bruised and bare neck. Freya's hand went to touch the necklace identical to Jerrica's that was always clasped onto her neck, only to find it gone and a slight sore feeling take place when she applied pressure there.

"Where did it go?" Freya exclaimed, her eyes frantically searching for the silver locket.

"It looks like someone tore it off your neck," said Jerrica, inspecting the purple mark on her sister's throat. Freya shook her head.

"This—this is just too weird. I need to go to bed. I can't…"

"Freya, you need to calm down—"

"Calm down?!" she cried, a look of incredulity directed towards Jerrica. Jerrica sighed.

"Okay, yeah, that was stupid, but seriously, getting worked up over this isn't going to help anything." Freya was silent for a moment, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. It was oddly similar to what Jerrica must have looked like earlier in Monica's office. It was then that Jerrica found it funny how she wasn't reacting the exact same way as Freya. She was just as frightened, but her brain was trying too hard to piece some sort of puzzle together.

"I'm going to bed," Freya muttered. "Don't try to pick up the glass right now, I'll grab the vacuum cleaner tomorrow and do it." Jerrica watched her sister retreat into the hallway, listening for the faint click of her bedroom door closing before following suit. Her own door was closed, strangely. She was sure she had left it open. A feeling of dread came over her as she turned the door knob and stepped inside. Something was wrong, she knew it.

And Jerrica was right. On the wall above her bed, was a message scratched into the paint:

_Death shall come to all. _

* * *

**So it's been almost a year since I updated this story and I will admit updates to this one may be pretty slow until I finish Into the West. It's going pretty slow right now, I know, but I'm planning on them making it to Middle Earth in the next chapter and hopefully a few things will be cleared up for you guys. **

**Comment, favorite/follow, and let me know what you think! **

**Thanks for reading (:**


	3. Chapter 3

The light was brilliant, lighting up the green meadow so beautifully that Jerrica stood in. She had been here before, many times. There were flowers of all types that were so vibrant that it was hard to tell if they were real. Dragonflies and butterflies flitted through the air and around her head while birds chirped a wonderful afternoon song. It was peaceful, Jerrica felt it so strongly. Peace is something that she hasn't felt in a while.

Jerrica looked up to the sky, noticing the tall mountain that stood high above the meadow and the small cluster of wispy clouds that surrounded the very top. There were no other mountains that supported the natural structure, it stood proudly by itself. Jerrica felt something emanating from it, a sense of power almost, as if there was a secret locked away in that lone mountain that was waiting to come out. And she wanted to let it out. The mountain had placed its grip on the young woman. It beckoned her forward and she made no amount of protest as her legs moved on their own accord, closer and closer to the edge of the meadow. A gleam of metal caught Jerrica's attention. She turned slowly, breaking the trance of the secret mountain and her eyes set upon familiar twinkling blue ones that she knew so well.

"Hello, Jerrica," a soft voice greeted, a voice that she held onto in her darkest moments. Her mother was adorned in a beautiful white gown, just as before. A gold headpiece surrounded the top of her head and the aura of nobility that emitted from her small frame seemed so natural, like it was always meant to be there.

"Mom," she whispered. Her voice carried through the wind in faint echoes. Low humming reached Jerrica's ears. It started out so soft, gradually increasing in volume. She turned her head, realizing that the noise was coming from the mountain. Soon the hums became words and those words became a story; a story that Jerrica found herself leaning over to listen for. The melody was haunting and the voices so deep. It was hard to hear every word, but one line she did hear:

_We must away ere break of day, _

_To win our harps and gold from him! _

"What do they sing about?" Jerrica's voice continued to quietly echo through the meadow. She received no response from her mother and when she turned, she found herself alone once again. It was strange, this place, but the peacefulness that settled within Jerrica before had never left. She felt oddly comforted. A rustle in the grass behind her broke the spell of the song that continued to sound from the mountain. Jerrica was alone no longer; there were three others in the meadow with her, but they did not seem to register her presence. They looked peculiar, as if they weren't really there in full. It seemed to Jerrica that they were apparitions of some sort, their bodies glowing faintly with an ethereal light. This made it hard for her to make out the features of the three. They were men, short men at that, about the same height at Jerrica, two of which had darker hair while the other was blonde. The three men jerkily moved, swords out and muted shouts coming from their mouths, like they were fighting with invisible forces.

Jerrica watched as one by one, they fell to the ground in motionless heaps and for some reason, Jerrica felt the strongest pang of grief, the type of grief that one would only ever feel when someone they cared for deeply had permanently departed from the living. It was the same grief that she had felt when her mother vanished.

Suddenly, three figures stood before her, the very same as before. The light around them had dimmed just enough for her to catch only the slightest glimpse of their features before they too vanished from sight. Jerrica was alone once more. She found herself humming the very tune that came from the mountain, the mountain of secrets. A smile played on her lips. She wanted to know the secrets within that mountain and she knew, one day, they would be revealed to her. One day she would know.

Another rustle came from behind her. Jerrica expected it to be the three men again, but was horrified to see that it was not them, but the black shadow with glowing red eyes. A familiar demonic laugh drowned out the pleasant noises of the meadow, the brilliant light clouded by shadow. All turned grey and dismal while the black shadow continued to eye its prey. Jerrica wanted to run, but her legs remained rooted to the ground, unwilling to follow her command. And then there was Freya, running towards her with fear written clear as day on her pale face.

"Jerrica!" she screamed. Her voice was just as muted as all the others before, barely reaching Jerrica's ears. The shadow swooped down towards Freya, shrouding her sprinting form in darkness.

"No!"

Jerrica bolted forward from the living room couch and breathed heavily. She was certainly not expecting that at _all_. The dream went as it normally did and t should have ended right as the three men disappeared, but the dream prolonged this time. And with the very demon she believed she hallucinated; however, now she wasn't so sure that a hallucination is what it was. This was becoming ridiculous. This shadow was infiltrating every thought Jerrica had for the past three days and now it was entering into her dreams.

It was an entirely new ending that Jerrica was not anticipating. She had no idea what the hell was going on, but she desperately wanted it to end. Since the night that she found the writing above her bed, she refused to sleep in her own room. Of course, Freya had flipped when she saw it as well and had wanted to call the police to report a break in and harassment, but Jerrica convinced her to let it go for the time being; because Jerrica knew, it wasn't some petty harassment. Something else was going on, something completely unexplainable. After what happened to both her and Freya earlier that same night, she was convinced of it. She didn't tell Freya, partly because she knew that her sister would assume she finally went off the deep end, despite her constant decrees that she and Jerrica "didn't belong in this world" which she found a little hypocritical.

This dream, it proved it all to her. Something was at work here. It frightened her; yet, Jerrica could not deny the small amount of thrill that ran down her spine. No, she wasn't fond of the idea of a black shadow with red eyes hunting her and her sister down, but the thought of an other-worldly force weaving itself into her mundane life made her feel almost…hopeful; hopeful that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for her and Freya to actually live out the fabricated stories they would make up on rainy evenings when they had only the company of each other and Netflix. Jerrica didn't want to get her hopes up too high though. After all, she _was_ a candidate for several disorders already and the last thing she wanted was for Monica to add psychosis to the list.

It had been a few days since her session with Monica and, strangely enough, Jerrica felt bad for her outburst towards the end of it. And, despite her profession and everything that Monica stood for, Jerrica found it relatively easy to talk to the therapist when she decided to open up. It didn't matter if Monica didn't believe what she said. The shrink was always a "tell it like it is" person, but never once did she judge Jerrica right off the bat and she was very aware of Jerrica's issues with any sort of medication or extensive procedures. For that, the young woman was incredibly grateful. It was time she maybe started to actually show it.

It was Thursday, meaning that Jerrica technically had classes, but she decided to skip and see if she could talk to Monica, if only for a few minutes. Tomorrow was the day Freya said they would be leaving for the camping trip, so packing afterwards would not be a bad idea either as Jerrica knew she still had a few classes in the morning. She changed herself quickly and threw her hair up before grabbing her bag and car keys off of the dining room table. A disgruntled Freya emerged from the hallway, her eyes scouring the floor for the twentieth time in three days.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Jerrica asked her. Freya only looked at her younger sister with annoyance.

"Aren't you supposed to be in school?" she snapped back. Jerrica's eyebrows went up at her tone. "I'm going to see Monica instead." That made Freya stop.

"Why? You never want to see her…" Jerrica shrugged.

"I don't know. I just have this feeling, like I should go see her, talk to her. I can't explain it." Freya looked at her funny so Jerrica tried to change the subject. "Still haven't found the necklace?"

"No," Freya said tiredly. "I don't get it, it was literally on my neck and then it wasn't. It couldn't have just disappeared."

Jerrica knew this was a big deal to Freya. The identical necklaces the two sisters had were given to them by their mother years ago; they had become mementos and Jerrica knew that if she had lost her own necklace that she would have been flipping tables.

"I'll look around a little bit more when I get back, okay? You should probably get ready for work," said Jerrica softly. Her sister nodded slowly and retreated back to her room without a word. With a sigh, Jerrica stepped out of the apartment and made the two minute trek to her car, the whole time keeping her hand clasped firmly around the silver locket that lay just below the hollow of her neck. On the drive to the office, she made sure to occasionally sweep a finger over the piece of jewelry, just to make sure it was still there and hadn't disappeared as well.

Jerrica could not shake the feeling of being watched as she pulled into a parking space and climbed out of her car. Suspicion and a slight feeling of anxiety welled up within her, but she blamed it on the incident that had occurred in the building those three days ago. Would the shadow be there again? Was it waiting for her?

She shook her head lightly to dispel all of her apprehension-filled thoughts. Everything was fine. She would be fine.

Jerrica walked leisurely to the receptionist who she had recently become quite acquainted with over the past few months and gave the perky red-head a small smile. "Hey Viv."

"Oh, hey, Jerrica. What brings you here? I thought your next appointment wasn't until Monday."

"No, it is. I just wanted to know if Monica was busy at the moment. There's something I kind of wanted to talk to her about." Vivian knitted her eyebrows together, but nodded anyway and placed her hand on the mouse of her computer.

"Okay, let me check." Jerrica waited patiently while Vivian clicked and typed away. "It doesn't look like she has any appointments right now. I'll call her on the intercom and see what she's doing."

"Thanks," Jerrica said with a grin. Vivian returned it while her finger reached for the red button next to the name "Monica Strafford." She pressed it once and when there was no reply she pressed it again only to receive the same result.

"Hm, she might be out of her office," Vivian said. "You know what, she likes you a lot so I don't see the harm in letting you go up there. Just wait outside her office and she'll be there eventually."

"Awesome, thank you so much Viv," Jerrica rushed out as she hurried to the elevator. She bounced her body up and down impatiently while the elevator took its time in pulling her up to Monica's floor. She wasn't sure why she was so anxious to get to the office, she never usually was. But Jerrica felt it as soon as she stepped into the hallway, the sense of foreboding where her anxiety must have been stemming from. The feeling of eyes on her prickled her skin and caused the hair on her neck to stand on end. Someone, or something, was in the hallway with her.

Jerrica quickened her pace to the large mahogany door that led into Monica's office and knocked several times to see if she had possibly come back already. However, there was no answer. She looked around the empty corridor, waiting for any sign of the therapist in vain. As instructed to her, Jerrica leaned against the wall beside the door and waited, her foot tapping against the floor in a rhythmic pattern. She stood there for fifteen minutes and every tick of the giant clock hung at the end of the hall echoed loudly in her head. Her patience was wearing thin and so was her comfortability. The hallway seemed to darken further around Jerrica, a chill in the air. It all seemed too familiar with the events that took place before. At this point, Jerrica didn't care how rude she might be, her hand enclosed around the handle of the door, and, with one last sweep of the area, pushed her way inside the office. The sight that greeted her had Jerrica gasping in shock.

Papers were strewn across the room, littering the floor along with pencils, markers, and even the drawers to the desk were lying haphazardly on the ground for anyone to trip on. The once immaculate office looked as if a tornado had ripped through it. The black chair that Jerrica always sat on during her sessions was overturned and several feet from where it usually stood, the same for the small leather couch across from it. And then her eyes fell on a pale hand that lay still on the floor, the rest of the body hidden by the large wooden desk. Shaking violently, Jerrica stepped ever so slowly towards the desk, her heart racing and a feeling of dread overcoming her being. For the third time in the span of a week, Jerrica was absolutely terrified; and rightly so because the scene before her was everything akin to horrifying.

It was Monica and she looked undeniably dead. Her alabaster skin seemed even paler, her thin lips contorted into a deep frown. The lower half of her white button down was drenched in blood, seeping from what Jerrica assumed to be either a bullet or stab wound. A frightened sob escaped Jerrica's mouth as she fell to her knees and crawled towards Monica's motionless body. The blood had drained from her own face moments ago, her heart beating even harder and faster than she thought possible, to the point where it was hurting.

"Oh, God," Jerrica whimpered, cradling her head. The drumming in her chest drowned out all other noises that sounded around her and she began to have difficulty breathing. This was not the first time Jerrica had felt this. The sight of Monica's possibly dead body had spurred on another panic attack, an incredibly tremendous one. Jerrica felt she might die.

For nearly ten minutes Jerrica rocked her body back and forth while the attack took its course and when it finally began to dissipate, the trembling of her hands did not let up, but she was better able to breathe and actually call for help. It took almost three minutes before she could actually dial 911 correctly with the intensity of her shaking, even longer to be able to coherently tell the dispatcher where she was and what had happened.

"Is there any sign of movement, breathing?" Jerrica looked towards Monica.

"Uhm, t-there's n-no move-m-ment."

"Is she breathing, ma'am?"

"I—I don't know," Jerrica choked out, her eyes still leaking tears.

"I need you to check for me, okay? There's help on the way now, but I need you to tell me if she's breathing or not." With the phone still in hand, Jerrica crawled over to Monica's body and cautiously placed a hand on the top most of her chest. She could have sworn she felt the slightest upward motion, but, just to be sure, Jerrica placed two fingers underneath Monica's jaw and felt for a pulse. And to her absolute relief, she felt a beat. It was slow, nerve rackingly slow, but it was there.

"There's a pulse. I-it's slow," she informed.

"Thank you ma'am, can you stay on the phone with me? Are you alone in the room?"

The dispatcher managed to calm Jerrica down a bit more as she waited for the shrill sound of sirens in the distance. The fact that Monica was still alive greatly relieved her enough to feel slightly calmer, but she was losing a good amount of blood and it would only be a matter of time before those shallow breaths went stagnant. A muffled noise in the corner of the room made Jerrica freeze. She turned her head around, noticing that the other end of the room had become significantly darker. That's when she saw the two, blood red eyes staring back at hers. This was no random murder attempt and Jerrica felt the cold rush of fear dribble down her back.

It was the shadow again, and he was not only targeting her, but the people around her as well.

Like an answer to her prayers, loud footsteps sounded from the hallway and in came an entourage of EMT's and police officers. Within five minutes, Jerrica was standing outside while Monica's body was wheeled into the back of the ambulance, a large oxygen mask covering the majority of her face. They were shutting the doors, when Jerrica cried, "Wait!" One EMT with light brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail turned to Jerrica. "I—I'd like to go with her, if that's alright."

"Are you a family member?" the woman asked with an eyebrow raised. Jerrica was about to shake her head, but thought better of it.

"I'm her niece," she said smoothly. The woman looked at her strangely for a moment then nodded her head, opening the right door to the ambulance to allow Jerrica in. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why she felt she needed to lie, but she felt responsible for what happened to Monica. It would only be right to see if she was okay.

The ambulance took off, zooming down the street with the siren blaring while Jerrica tried to keep herself steadily seated. For a moment, she contemplated holding Monica's hand then thought better of it and just stared at the large mask that was aiding in her therapist's breathing. She wasn't an actual blood relation to Monica, not even that close to her at all. Jerrica wondered if she did have any family. It was hard for her to imagine Monica being in a happy relationship with little children running around her; the woman was just too _dour_. Yet, Jerrica had to admit that she knew next to nothing about Monica's personal life, so she couldn't make any assumptions.

It didn't take long to get to the hospital and everything from there happened in a rush. Before Jerrica knew it, she was sitting on a white bench across from the room where doctors and surgeons worked on Monica. Part of her wanted to get up and leave, but the guilty side convinced her to stay and at least make sure that Monica was well and would survive.

"Uh, Jerrica?" She looked up to meet the eyes of a young man clad in blue scrubs and a white lab coat, a clipboard in hand.

"Yeah, that's me," she replied while straightening her back from its slumped position.

"Okay, it looks like Monica is going to be absolutely fine. She lost a fair amount of blood, but it's not as bad as it could have been. She's lucky you found her when you did." The breath that Jerrica didn't even know she was holding finally left her.

"Good, that's…good. Is she awake?" The doctor shook his head.

"Not at the moment. She went through a bit of shock and for now she needs to rest. She might wake up within the next few hours if you would like to stay." Jerrica opened her mouth to reply when a frantic looking older man came running down the hallway, a young girl who seemed like the exact spitting image of Monica in tow.

"Where is she? Is my wife okay? Is she going to be okay?"

"You must be Mr. Strafford," the doctor said to him calmly. "Yes, your wife is going to be fine. She's resting now, but she'll be alright." The man, Monica's husband, sagged in relief, curling his arm around the young girl while she cried into the side of his woolen jacket. His hair was relatively short and greying, his eyes a rich brown that held innocence and purity. Despite the greying hair, he seemed younger and definitely not who Jerrica expected as Monica's husband of all people. The man looked to Jerrica then, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Who are you?" The doctor's face screwed up in confusion as he looked to Jerrica as well.

"She said that she's—" Jerrica quickly intervened, knowing that her act was up.

"I'm sorry. I found Monica in her office and I…she needed someone with her so I…" She stumbled over her words, not knowing exactly what to say. Jerrica half expected Monica's husband to start yelling at her and demand that she leave, but instead his eyes crinkled and he smiled sadly.

"Thank you, then, for helping. It's greatly appreciated." He turned to the doctor. "Can I see my wife now?" Monica's husband and daughter were escorted into the room where the therapist herself lay sleeping.

"So, if you're not Monica's niece, I'm sure the police will have a few questions for you," the doctor said as he closed the door. Jerrica nodded, her anxiety coming back a bit at the thought of talking to the cops. It reminded her too much of _that_ day.

The next hour was spent with Jerrica answering every question thrown at her by the police, and after being cleared by Vivian's account and a few other witnesses, she was free to leave. She was tempted to go back and wait for Monica to wake up, ask her what exactly had happened. In the end, though, Jerrica only turned around and quietly slipped through the hospital doors, completely aware of the eyes that followed her every move.

* * *

"Are you _completely_ sure you don't want to cancel the trip? I totally understand if you do, I mean, finding someone dying on the floor is beyond—"

"Freya! I want to go, alright? I think I _need_ this trip, now." Jerrica was sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, placing her last minute items in her backpack while Freya wrung her hands by the door.

"Okay, but only if you _promise_ me that if at _any_ moment you feel uncomfortable or you need to leave—"

"Jesus Christ, yes, I will let you know! Now go and finish packing so we can leave already!" Jerrica knew that Freya was only look out for her, but her older sister seemed to over-do it at times. Honestly, she was worse than how their mother had been. With an exaggerated sigh, Jerrica stood up from the floor, grabbing her backpack, and made her way into the living room where all of their camping supplies were neatly piled.

Jerrica was already dressed and ready to take off, eager to get away from the city that was starting to close in on her. Too much happened in such a short amount of time. She was surprised she managed to get through it all with only two panic attacks. Freya walked out of her room a few minutes later and with after asking a few more questions to see if Jerrica was really up for the trip, they began to shuffle out of the apartment with their arms full of camping gear.

"Freya?" Jerrica called softly when they finished piling everything into the trunk of Freya's jeep.

"Hm?"

"Can we stop by the hospital real quick, before we leave?" Freya gave Jerrica a small smile and nodded her head.

"Course." The two were silent during the ride to the hospital, Jerrica nervously fidgeting in her seat the closer they got. She knew exactly who the culprit to Monica's attack was, and she was curious to know if Monica remembered anything. Freya pulled into the hospital parking lot and cut the engine.

"Do you want me to go in with you or should I just stay in the waiting area?"

"I think I should go alone. You're okay waiting?"

"Yeah, do what you gotta do, sis," she replied, plopping down onto one of the plastic chairs.

"Um, I'm here to see Monica Strafford," Jerrica said quietly to the receptionist. Without saying a word, the older woman searched through her computer, eventually barking a, "third floor, fourth door on the right." Jerrica didn't bother saying thank you and just walked away towards the elevator.

Monica looked immensely different without her usual crisp eyeshadow and lipstick. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few pieces of hair falling out and into her eyes. Jerrica was taken aback by the stark difference; it didn't even look like her therapist. In fact, she looked like the typical suburban soccer mom. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion and something else that Jerrica could not name; but she had seen it before, in passing, when Monica was troubled and had briefly forgotten to put her guard up. It might have been pain or sadness, maybe more.

"Jerrica," Monica called with surprise. "I wasn't expecting you to come visit me."

"Did they tell you?" Jerrica asked. "I was the one who found you." Monica's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"Really," she said. "What were you doing at the office yesterday?" Jerrica looked away, her eyes trailed on the floor at her feet.

"I wanted to talk to you about…things. I don't know. I've been getting this weird feeling lately and…Freya, she feels it too. I'm not the only one." Quickly Jerrica shook her head, realizing this was definitely not the time or place to be talking about these things with Monica. "I'm sorry. That's not what I came here for. I just wanted to know how you were doing."

Monica smiled, then, and motioned for Jerrica to sit on the small plastic chair beside the hospital bed. "I'm sore and a little shaken up, but nothing too drastic, surprisingly."

"I'm sorry if this is completely inappropriate of me to ask, but, do you know who—who did it?" Monica shook her head ruefully.

"No, I don't. I…seem to have blocked out the incident..." Monica waved a hand in the air. "My memory of yesterday is a little botched." Jerrica nodded in understanding.

"Well, I hope they figure out who did it, you deserve that much. I actually am going away for a few days with Freya and a couple of her friends so I wanted to see you before I left and make sure you're okay and all."

"Oh, that sounds nice. It seems you and your sister are due for a getaway. I hope you have fun."

"Thanks," Jerrica replied quietly. The door to the room opened and in came the same girl that Jerrica deduced as Monica's daughter. "I should get going then."

"Alright. Thanks for visiting Jerrica. I'll let you know as soon as I'm out so we can reschedule an appointment." Monica was smiling again, an action that looked so foreign on the woman's face. Jerrica gave a tight smile back and made her way to the door before turning back around.

"Monica, did you have an appointment yesterday morning before the incident by any chance?"

Monica furrowed her eyebrows at the question. "I did. Why do you ask?"

"Can I ask who it was with?" The older woman held a vaguely suspicious look in her eye, no doubt contemplating whether she should answer or not.

"Mark Tungston. He was supposed to come see me right after your last session, but he called and asked to reschedule."

Jerrica recognized the name and it seemed as though a piece to the puzzle was put into place. "What…does he look like?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted to be sure.

"Uh, tall, long black hair; in fact, he seems to _always_ be in black." Jerrica felt the air being knocked out of her lungs. She knew exactly who had attacked Monica. Whoever, _whatever_, this is, they were not only targeting her and Freya, they were targeting anyone else she was involved with.

Jerrica couldn't help but question the obvious:

Why?

* * *

**I really tried to fit in them going to Middle Earth, but I thought that this was a good ending for the chapter. But I _promise_ that they will get there in the next chapter, cross my heart. **

**Please review and tell me what you think! **

**Thanks for reading(: **


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